


Love Thy Enemy

by Patchwork drabbles (PurplePatchwork)



Series: RusAme Drabbles [61]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/Patchwork%20drabbles
Summary: Alfred can't even count all the times he and Ivan fought on one hand. Still, it's Ivan he's thinking about when alone in his room.





	Love Thy Enemy

Alfred groaned as he leant against the door. Fumbling for his keys, he cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t be thinking about this, he shouldn’t be thinking about doing this, doing this with _him_  in mind, and dammit, he definitely should NOT do this! Finally locating his keys and jamming the wrong one into the keyhole three consecutive times before at long last getting it right, he burst into his dorm room and slammed the door shut behind him. After two steps he had undone his belt, after five he’d somehow gotten rid of his socks, and by the time he reached his bed the pants had come off too. Alfred was very lucky that his roommate had classes until 6 today, leaving him enough time to indulge in his primal urges.

With a loud moan he let himself fall onto the bed, the mattress bouncing back a bit as he pulled his legs on top of it. Positioning himself so that he was lying on his back and his thighs were wide apart, he placed a hand on his crotch. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not while thinking of Ivan.

Ivan, with his sultry amethyst gaze and mocking smirks, Ivan, with his tussled hair that shone silvery in certain lighting, Ivan, his greatest rival, the one who could set him off with a single comment, Ivan, whom he had lusted after for six months now. It had started out slow, staring at the other for a moment too long, letting himself get lost in their heated discussions, starting to look forward to seeing the other each day. The first time Alfred woke up bathing in sweat and pitching a tent after a very vivid dream, he knew it was too late.

Alfred threw his head back as he palmed himself through the fabric of his boxers, letting out short almost pained-sounding huffs. He arched his hips into his hand, imagining it being Ivan’s instead. Imagining Ivan sitting between his spread legs, smirking, teasing, tempting. “Let me help you with that,” he would chuckle, purr in that dark accent of his, and oh, Alfred gasped when his erection twitched at the mere thought of that.

Growing impatient, he wriggled out of his boxers and threw them on the ground next to his jeans. Grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand which he only ever used in case of emergency—which this definitely was—he applied some onto his fingers and erect cock before thoroughly starting to stroke himself. Up and down, down and up, gripping himself tight in an attempt to make it a quickie. Maybe then he would feel less guilty afterwards, maybe then he’d still be able to look Ivan in the eye when they met up tomorrow.

He tilted his head to the side, cheek lying to rest on the pillow as he closed his eyes. With the right hand still pumping, he used the left to play with himself. Dragging his fingers through the curly hairs, giving a squeeze to his balls, all things Ivan would never do because he saw him as a friend at most, in some strange, twisted way of thinking. Alfred sighed as one thumb drew circles over the tip of his penis while the other caressed the small patch of skin beneath his balls, and he arched his back to make it seem more intense, desperately wanting it to be someone else giving him a hand (literally).

He wanted Ivan here, on top of him, devoid of any clothing. Alfred bet he was big down there, and that only further aroused him (which it shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t). He wanted Ivan to look at him with desire, slowly licking his lips as if Alfred were a treat he was about to devour. He wanted Ivan to use his mouth and go down on him, wanted to be tortured to the brink of insanity. He would happily bend over and be fucked into the mattress by him, for him, as long as it was him and no one else. Alfred had never been the type to relieve himself from dominance within a relationship, but those smouldering eyes and that bulking figure did things to him, drove him crazy.

Hips jerking and twitching, the stroking became more sporadic, and he whispered Ivan’s name over and over, allowing himself this small moment of solace before the eruption of white made him snap taut. Afterwards he collapsed back onto his bed, spilled and satiated.

Panting, he opened his eyes once more to find himself alone in the room. Pursing his lips together into an angry line, he slammed his balled fist sideways against the wall.

“Dammit Braginsky…” he spoke in broken voice, chest heaving for more than one reason as angry tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. “Look at what you’ve done to me…dammit…”


End file.
